


The Art of Deception

by Kiki_G_Marie



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Bloodplay, Light Bondage, M/M, Painplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiki_G_Marie/pseuds/Kiki_G_Marie
Summary: "Jesse McCree pressed his back against the rough wooden wall of a cottage whose innards had clearly been licked clean and black by a powerful fire. He could feel rivulets of sweat down the back of his neck, a sharp ache in his side, his heart damn near beating out of his chest, his lungs fixing to burst. But then he heard them. Demons."Jesse McCree, a Hunter of the Watch, meets a beautiful stranger after a mission gone awry. But something seems a little too good to be true about this...





	1. The Trick

Jesse McCree pressed his back against the rough wooden wall of a cottage whose innards had clearly been licked clean and black by a powerful fire. He could feel rivulets of sweat down the back of his neck, a sharp ache in his side, his heart damn near beating out of his chest, his lungs fixing to burst. But then he heard them.

Demons.

“Oh, no, we sssscaaaaared him awaaaay…” a sickly sweet voice rang out.

Jesse put a hand over his nose and mouth, breathing shallowly and as silently as possible. With an empty gun, a stomach wound, and zero recovery time afforded to him, the only advantage he had was the rain and the burnt wood masking his scent, and his own silence.

“Hunter…” a high, reedy whisper called. “Where did you go…?”

“We only want a small bit, little Hunter…” this one sounded like a death rattle.

“Give us a taste, Hunter…” this one like a human woman.

“Pleeeaaaaaasse…?” this one like a lost child.

McCree swallowed and willed his heart to beat quieter, even as his fingers twitched toward the hunting knife in his belt.

That was when the chilling voices dissolved into giggles and drew further and further away from Jesse’s hiding place. He listened closely for a couple minutes more, before removing his gloved hand from his mouth and exhaling deeply.

He was _seriously_ regretting taking on this job.

“It’s just a couple small-time demons preying on a backwater village, McCree!” He muttered wryly, carefully reloading his empty revolver. “To hell with your ‘gut feeling’, Gabriel, just give it to Jesse and get the damned job done!” Jesse hissed in pain as he checked the spot where he’d caught a stray clawed hand to the ribs. At the very least it seemed shallow, even bleeding sluggishly like it was. “I’m gonna kick Morrison’s ass when I get out of this.”

See, in McCree’s experience, this many lesser demons didn’t just congregate and expose themselves so openly to humans without reason. The twelve or so that he’d had the misfortune to tussle with (yeah, TWELVE. He’d taken care of over half of them before he’d had to run for it. Suck on that, Morrison.) weren’t the type who generally _ate in public_ , as it were. Yet he’d encountered them just by skulking around the edge of town past midnight, easy as you please. Not only that, they clearly couldn’t give less of a shit whether he was a villager or a member of the Watch. They’d ganged up on him, more coming out of the woodwork at each turn. They were bold, desperate for food in a way that was making them more careless and more dangerous. Something had to be either driving them wild, commanding them, or scaring them shitless. Maybe even a combination.

“Aw, hell…” Jesse grunted, sliding down the wall into a sitting position. He was cold, wet, hungry, and drained as all hell. He didn’t have the energy to waste speculating on why the damned things were behaving like they were. Right now, all he wanted to do was shut his eyes and wait for sunrise to clear most of the lesser demons out. His eyelids, heavy with exhaustion, began to slide closed.

An indeterminate amount of time later (it couldn’t have been long, Jesse thought as he scanned the room. It was still dark as pitch outside, the moon was still high, and the rain hadn’t let up just yet), Jesse flinched awake and aimed his gun on instinct, feeling movement in the darkness and a pair of eyes on him.

“Show yourself!” he called out, pulling down the hammer. With the loud click, the presence in the room with him twitched and moved forward, arms held pleadingly in front of them.

“Don’t shoot, please. I am hiding from the demons, as you are.” A man’s voice, slightly accented, came out just above a whisper in the dark. Jesse didn’t lower his gun.

“Into the moonlight, if ya please.” He gestured to the spot in front of him where a high window cast a long, wide strip of silver light into the room. Obediently, the figure shuffled forward.

Jesse looked over the man kneeling in front of him. About his age, mid-twenties, small build but muscular enough to suggest considerable strength. Black hair slipping from a crimson tie to fall at his shoulder-blades, brushing over a surprisingly delicate collarbone. A stern face, but well-defined, though at the moment it was populated by scratches and bruises, with piercing black eyes and elegantly curved eyebrows. His clothes, drawn up over a clearly bare chest as best he could manage in the cold, looked like they had been white, but they were badly damaged, soaked through, and splattered with mud. You couldn’t even tell what they’d looked like before. Some kind of tied-off tunic over pants, maybe? Point was, clearly this man had been through the wringer. Jesse grimaced as he thought he probably didn’t look much better, and lowered his gun, though he didn’t drop it completely.

“Sorry. Can’t be too careful.” He said gruffly. The man across from him exhaled and nodded, and suddenly Jesse felt like an ass. He was shaking, and his fists had been white-knuckled where they’d rested on his knees. He’d probably been terrified that the madman in black and a wide-brimmed hat was going to shoot him in the head in the middle of a deserted homestead. Probably after being terrified that a bunch of goddamned demons were going to eat him in the middle of a deserted homestead. Jesse could relate. “I’m McCree. Jesse McCree.” He offered.

“Hanzo Shimada.” The man responded. “I apologize for not making my presence known earlier. When the demons came and you dove in here, I was not sure what to do except be silent. They hovered near the cottage for a couple hours, while you were sleeping, so I thought it best to stay quiet and let you rest.”

“It’s alright, I know how it goes.” Jesse sighed. “I was scared shitless and half-delirious when I rolled in here, and then I conked out. I probably wouldn’t have noticed you if you danced stark naked on the tip of my nose.”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow at Jesse’s attempt at humor, but said nothing.

“A-Anyway. How’d you end up in here?” Jesse changed the subject, face heating inexplicably. Hanzo frowned.

“I was traveling along the main road during the evening. I was not aware of the demon activity in this area, and was accosted by far too many to deal with at once. Once I ran out of arrows, I began running for my life, and I found this shack to hide in after… quite a few mishaps.” He gestured vaguely to the muddy and torn state of his clothes, and the bruised state of his body.

“Arrows?” Jesse asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. Hanzo held up a hand to stop Jesse from panicking and reached behind him, pulling an intricate bow, equal parts smooth metal and carved wood, from the shadows where he’d been hiding. Jesse whistled. “That is a damn fine piece of equipment.”

“Yes. Stormbow is my constant, loyal companion, but she is not the best company when without anything with which to shoot.” Hanzo gave a wry smile as he set the bow down again. Jesse found himself following the curve of that smile with his eyes, before shaking the odd thought away.

“So you’ve been hiding from the demons in the forest for, what? A few hours? How’d you manage that?” Jesse asked, moving to sit criss-cross and leaning forward slightly to listen.

“I am not without some abilities that prove useful in situations like these.” Hanzo said slowly, as though picking his words carefully. “I placed… deterrents. Around the cottage to prevent demons from sensing my presence. And, after you came in, yours.” At the phrase, McCree took in his surroundings, and felt a small, familiar buzz in the walls that he’d let slip his mind in his adrenaline-fueled state. Reyes would murder him for not noticing it before.

“Wards. You’re a witch?” Jesse inquired, eyes wide. Hanzo pouted slightly (though Jesse would hesitate to call it that out loud, as he’d sure the archer would object).

“No. I have some small talent with magic. I am nothing so… defined.”

“Semantics.” McCree waved a hand through the air. “Witch or no, your wards are probably what saved my hide. I should thank you.”

“You are welcome, then, though they were mostly for my benefit before you came.” Hanzo chuckled briefly, before clearing his throat and schooling his expression. The smile didn’t quite leave his eyes, though. Jesse found himself grinning back. “So, now you know about me. Tell me, how did a Watcher find his way to a deserted, burnt-down farm in the middle of the forest?”

“Ah. You recognized the get-up, even in this light?” McCree asked, leaning his head back against the wall and stretching out his legs again.

“There aren’t many people who wouldn’t recognize a Watcher in the field, these days. You are very famous.” Hanzo gave another half-smile. Jesse chuckled.

“Fair point. My job in the town nearby went south, and the demons chased me out here. Same deal as you, in the end.”

“Really?” Hanzo tilted his head to the side quizzically. “Do you not have comrades with you? The Watch usually sends you out in teams.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Jesse groans, shaking his head. “They didn’t want to waste the resources on a ‘small disturbance’, so they sent me out all on my lonesome.”

“They must think you very capable then, if they trust you to handle such a large area by yourself.” Hanzo said, almost sounding impressed. Jesse flushed in embarrassment, and clicked his tongue.

“I-I ain’t all that. They were just tired of seeing my face around Watchpoint, I’m sure.”

“I cannot imagine why.” Hanzo said quietly, his eyes flickering over McCree in assessment. For some reason, McCree felt self-conscious, and crossed his arms defensively. He winced as the movement pulled at the wound at his side, which Hanzo immediately seemed to pick up on. “You are injured.” The man reached for Jesse, who instinctively raised his gun again.

“Sorry, Hanzo, that’s close enough.” He growled, more from pain than aggression. “I told ya, I can’t trust your word alone. Until the daylight hits ya, I can’t be sure if you are who you say you are and what you seem to be.”

“I could say the same thing to you.” Hanzo said, hands raised to placate, but eyes accusing. “Also, you are the one pointing a gun at me, remember? It would be quite foolish of me to try anything when you clearly have the upper-hand.”

“I… guess that’s true, but…” Jesse’s finger wavered on the trigger.

“I can help. I told you, I know magic. I can heal a small amount. That…” Hanzo’s eyes again flicked to Jesse’s side “Is worse than you think it is. If it’s been bleeding since you got here, you need to stop it.”

Jesse bit the inside of his cheek and got to thinking. Hanzo had a point, the sluggish bleeding from the claw wound didn’t seem to have stopped since he’d checked it last, and that had to be at least a couple hours ago. Hanzo had been nothing but civil while they talked, and Jesse could definitely feel that the wards put up were legitimately meant to keep demons out. Hanzo was an unknown, but he’d shown no malice, and McCree couldn’t detect even a hint of glamour on him. He seemed safe to trust, at least thus far.

Jesse weighed his options, and made a decision.

“Fine, you can help me. But I’m keeping my gun.” Jesse said, nodding at Hanzo and lowering his weapon.

“How kind of you.” Hanzo drawled, moving closer. “We are going to need to remove this.” He tugged lightly at Jesse’s heavy coat, uselessly soaked with rainwater and providing no warmth whatsoever. Jesse began shrugging out of it, and yelped slightly with pain.

“Agh! Jesus…” McCree exhaled. The damned thing hadn’t hurt this much before, he was sure of it. That _definitely_ wasn’t good.

“Ssh! Here, I’ll do it.” Hanzo, looking slightly annoyed, grabbed the lapels of the coat and slowly slid it down over Jesse’s arms. Jesse let his head fall back against the wall and hissed, as Hanzo brushed a hand over the part of his turtleneck that had been torn through. “I need to push up your shirt now, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, okay.” McCree said through grit teeth. He wasn’t sure how he’d been ignoring this pain before, but he sure as hell wanted it to stop as soon as possible. He registered, in the corner of his mind, Hanzo’s hands sliding against his bare stomach. They were cool and dry, and smooth as anything. Jesse shivered imperceptibly.

“I thought so. The demon that clawed you was venomous. I’ve got to draw the venom out before I heal this over.” Hanzo said, pursing his lips. “I am not an expert at dealing with poisons. This is going to hurt.”

If Jesse thought he was in pain before, it was nothing compared to having venom drawn out of him, magically or otherwise. He nearly screamed as Hanzo concentrated on holding his hands steady over the wound. At some point, Jesse began convulsing, and Hanzo responded by straddling his lap and holding his legs still using his weight. Vaguely, in the back of McCree’s pain-addled brain, he wistfully thought he’d rather Hanzo be doing that under much, much more enjoyable circumstances.

Then, just like that, it was over. Replacing the excruciating pain was the tingling sensation of magically healing flesh, and McCree let out a long breath, letting his head loll forward. He glanced at Hanzo, noting that he looked exhausted, and that there was a crease in his brow where it was furrowed in concentration. Jesse reached a hand up reflexively and brushed some of Hanzo’s hair out of his face so he could see him more clearly.

“Thank you. That probably took a lot out of ya to do.” he said quietly, voice hoarse like he’d been screaming even though he’d damn near bitten his tongue in two staying silent. Hanzo’s flow of magic stopped, but his hands didn’t move from their position on McCree’s side. He looked up at Jesse through long, dark lashes.

“You are welcome. I’m glad that I could stop it from getting worse.” Hanzo said, straightening up and looking Jesse square in the face. A lull came over them, a silent moment of merely looking at each other. Hanzo, surprisingly was the one to break the silence. “You are freezing.”

“Ha. You’re not exactly a furnace yourself, sugar.” Jesse clamped his mouth shut immediately, full of regret. Now what’d he gone and said _that_ for?!

“Your wound won’t heal properly if you are this cold.” To McCree’s utter shock, Hanzo merely gave him that same mesmerizing half-smile in response to his little slip-up. It was exponential, the effect that curve of the lips was having on McCree. He almost felt dizzy from staring at it. “We cannot make a fire. There are still demons about, they would smell it and become curious.”

“Well, yeah, ‘course not. What did you h-have… ha…” As Jesse spoke, he suddenly felt Hanzo’s cool, smooth hands sliding across his stomach, and down, and down, and down, and… “ _Christ_.”

“Sharing body heat would probably help in this situation.”  Hanzo continued casually, even as one of his palms was making slow, slow circles over Jesse’s crotch.

“Whoa, there, uh, wh-wh-where is this coming from, Hanzo?” McCree was fighting a mighty battle to keep his head level, and scrabbled to put his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders to slow his progress. It didn’t seem to help, considering that Hanzo had managed to wrangle McCree’s belt open and already had a finger toying with the button of his trousers.

“Because I like you, Jesse McCree. Is that so hard to believe?” Hanzo responded, eyes hooded. Jesse could feel his face turn red. “You are very charming.”

“I, uh, I could say the same about you, Hanzo, but I... I, uh…” through Jesse’s weak protests, Hanzo shrugged off the sleeves of his threadbare tunic, revealing a toned and muscular upper body and, most enticingly, swirls of colorful ink running from his left pectoral muscle all the way down to the wrist of his left arm, the details of which Jesse couldn’t quite make out in the dim light. McCree swallowed thickly. “Holy hell…”

“I want you. And I do not think I have misread your interest in me.” Hanzo said, wrapping his arms around McCree’s neck and rolling his hips forward. Jesse let out a muffled groan, sliding his hands from Hanzo’s shoulders down his sides to rest on his hips, ostensibly to slow them.

“J-Just slow down a second, this is a bit, uh, fast, don’t you think? And…!” Hanzo’s head dipped to Jesse’s neck, pressing his lips there as he continued to rotate his hips in Jesse’s lap. “Oh, _shit_. Uh… I just, don’t think this is the best place to…!”

“Jesse, don’t you feel warmer already?” Hanzo murmured against his neck, sucking a bruise into a spot above his collar bone. One hand was tugging down the high neck-line of Jesse’s shirt, while the other was ever-so-slowly pushing Jesse down to lie on his back. Jesse would’ve liked to say he resisted a little bit, but the truth was he had never wanted to give someone this much control of himself in his _life_.

“Yeah... I mean!” Jesse shook his head, propping himself back up on his elbows. “Hanzo, I’m flattered and everything, but somethin’ ain’t right here. I can’t put my finger on it…!” he was cut off by Hanzo catching his lips in a searing kiss. Forget warm, suddenly, Jesse was _BURNING_. His head was nothing but a chorus of firecrackers and Hanzo and yes, god, _YES_. When Hanzo broke the kiss, Jesse chased after it blindly, a broken whine escaping from somewhere deep in his throat.

“Ah, ah. No more of those until you answer a question.”

“Anythin’, sugar.” McCree responded, too quickly, head spinning. Hanzo half-smiled again, almost fondly, dragging his body slowly against Jesse’s until he was sitting upright in his lap again.

“Truthful answer only. If I can tell that you are lying, I _will_ stop. Understand?” McCree nodded, still dazed. Hanzo chuckled slightly before continuing. “Do you want me?”

“Ye… wait.” Jesse furrowed his brow and shook his head. “I… I know I do, but something… just ain’t sittin’ right with me, so I’m just not sure that…”  

“Jesse, this isn’t a trick question.” Hanzo smirked, with another well-aimed roll of his hips. Jesse groaned, his arms shaking with the effort of holding himself up. “This only works if you are honest, it only tastes good if you actually want me. So if I need to reveal my hand here to give you peace of mind, so be it.”

“T-Tastes…?!” Jesse asked dumbly through his haze.

That was when he saw it.

Or rather, when Hanzo LET him see it.

Dark gray skin inked in blood reds and midnight blues. Glowing white eyes. Elegant red markings curling along fine cheekbones and over a regal brow. Slight claws raking, just at the edge of pain, across McCree’s chest. And sharp fangs in a small, familiar smirk, enticing even with the danger clear.

“Fuck.” McCree’s hand scrabbled for his gun, but it wasn’t where he left it. For his knife, but it was nowhere to be found.

“Hmm. Were you looking for something, Jesse?” Hanzo purred, canting his hips, _hard_ , drawing another moan from McCree. “It’s rude to run away when you have not answered my question.”

“Oh, _fuck_.”


	2. The Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some questions of clarification are in order. At least, they are if Jesse wants to keep Hanzo talking and avoid getting, uh. Eaten.

Okay, so Jesse McCree will readily admit that he’s done some stupid, _stupid_ shit in the past, and the same shit may have put him in some damn hot water. But he’s got to say, out of all the stupid things he’s ever done, out of all the bad situations he’d ever gotten himself into, this was the worst. And also a first. And quite possibly the last.

Sure, get chummy with a random, extremely attractive stranger in the middle of the night in a demon-infested forest, McCree. Take your gun off of him and let him practically take off your clothes because he seems _nice_ and you like how his _mouth_ looks, McCree. Oh, and then let him climb ya like a goddamn tree! What the fuck could go wrong with _that_ plan? God, if he could be outside his own body right now, he’d punch himself in the mouth.

“You mustn’t feel that you have failed in some way, Jesse.” Hanzo actually looked mildly concerned, stilling his hips on McCree’s lap. McCree, for his part, valiantly held in a very embarrassing whine of disappointment at the halted movements. “I am not one to boast, but I am quite good with shapeshifting. Humans can usually sense nothing off about me at all. You are the first. You must be quite an accomplished Watcher, indeed.” Jesse merely stared the demon down. Which, in hindsight, was a horrible idea, because even with his _actually demonic_ features visible, Hanzo was a fucking masterpiece and there was a _LOT_ of bare skin on display. God damn it all.

“Thank the lord for his small comforts, I guess.” Jesse growled. “If you believe in that sort of thing.” He was keenly aware of the clawed hands resting on his chest. He wasn’t about to get into a wrestling match with a being who could maul him like a goddamned bear. There had to be a way out of this that didn’t end with his entrails decorating the walls of a demon’s hideout.

“This may come as a surprise to you, but I do.” Hanzo answered, laughter winding through his voice like a silk scarf through someone’s fingers. Jesse felt like he’d never catch that voice, it slipped through his ears and twirled around his brain and teased his every synapse before fluttering away. He was suddenly very dizzy.

“So, what comes next? Are you one of them throat-tearin’ types, or do you do the blood-drinkin’ thing? ‘Cause I’d really prefer you get it over with if you’re the latter.” Jesse blurted out, because he’s a _goddamned idiot_. The demon (a _demon_ , it’s so obvious that an attractive helpful stranger in a deserted homestead would be a _DEMON_ ) currently straddling his lap just chuckled, leaning down so that his stomach was flush with McCree’s. The gunslinger winced at the skin-to-skin contact, noting that Hanzo’s true skin wasn’t anything as cold as his glamour had felt. If anything, it was enticingly warm. Jesse tried desperately not to think about that. He needed to focus.

“Jesse, I am not going to kill you.” Hanzo nearly pouted, drawing circles on McCree’s chest with a single clawed finger. Jesse fought a violent shudder at the sensation. “What exactly do you take me for?”

“A demon that likes to play with his food, evidently?” Jesse offered weakly. Hanzo actually laughed at that, a full-body rumble that McCree felt in his chest and a smile that made his temperature rise.

“An apt description, though a misguided one.” Hanzo finally said, holding in another tremor of laughter. “I do not feed upon flesh or blood, Jesse. My sustenance is slightly more… refined… that what lesser demons generally consume.” Hanzo slowly licked his lips as he rocked his hips forward, sending a shock of pleasure up McCree’s spine with the movement. With that jolt came realization on McCree’s part.

In a far, far corner of his mind, he remembered Reyes going over demon types with him when he’d first joined the Watch. Remembered a long, long talk about the rarest of the bunch, the most intelligent, the most dangerous. Feeding on sexual energy with the ability to suck you dry of the will to live, powers that included complete disguise and even controlling your mind. Morrison liked to say that it was the vamps and the wolves that you needed to watch for, because of the risk of infection (and hell, a good portion of the Watch could personally attest to that danger themselves), but Reyes knew. Nothing was more terrifying than the prospect of losing all control, becoming someone’s slave and puppet.

Jesse McCree was feeling that terror pretty deep, at the moment.

“Incubus.” Jesse breathed, eyes wide.

“In a manner of speaking.” Hanzo confirmed, wriggling slightly against him and causing Jesse’s train of thought to stutter, even as it raced forward at high speeds. “Though I am generally not seen or known as such. As I said, you are the first to sense anything… ‘wrong’… with me. Ever. It is quite impressive.”

“You’re the reason the demons ‘round these parts are goin’ crazy!” Jesse stated aloud. It didn’t seem like Hanzo had a mind to take over his brain yet, so he might as well keep him talking until he could come up with a good plan to get out of this mess. Hanzo had the nerve to actually look slightly sheepish about the accusation.

“Correct again. Though my appearance was not honest, Jesse McCree, the rest of my tale was. My scent has a wide range, and a rather… adverse effect upon demons of lesser power than myself. I was unaware just how many of those demons lived in this forest. Otherwise, I would have taken some other path to avoid them.” Hanzo sighed and rested his chin on McCree’s chest, finger still tracing circles around a dusky nipple. “As it is, I was set upon while following the path, and driven to this area of the forest, where I set up the wards and hid as best I could to wait for dawn. Had I known there were any humans near this place, I would have set additional wards. Though,” Hanzo pressed his lips to McCree’s chest for a moment in an oddly affectionate gesture, “I am very glad I did not.”

“Why the hell would _you_ be runnin’ from demons?” McCree narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Hanzo pouted again. McCree hated how cute it looked on him.

“Jesse,” he sounded exasperated, like he was talking to a particularly slow dog, “has it ever occurred to you that some demons do not enjoy the company of other demons?”

“I can’t say it has.” McCree responded, voice thin with frustration and nerves. Hanzo was staring _right at him_ , he couldn’t be lookin’ shifty-eyed trying to find his knife when the demon’s eyes alone were pinning him in place like this. “And besides, I was under the assumption that Incubi enjoyed the company of everybody.” He flinched at the barbed comment, wondering not for the first time just how much of a death wish his big mouth had.

“Lesser demons taste as bad as they smell, and they do not ask one’s permission.” Miraculously, Hanzo took the comment in stride, merely wrinkling his nose at the thought. “And I don’t know about your personal taste in sexual partners, but I’d sooner jump off a cliff than fuck a goblin.”

In spite of himself, Jesse laughed at that. Hanzo smiled at him, actual fondness on his face, before continuing.

“And I suppose you are also wondering why I have not just made you my thrall and had my way with you, hm?”

“Well, I sure as hell wasn’t gonna bring it up...” Jesse muttered darkly, shifting slightly under Hanzo. So much for keeping him distracted.

“Very wise of you.” Hanzo smirked at him, but carried on. “When I feed, I prefer for my partners to give freely. Thus the human face. I am not fond of forcing others to do my bidding when I do not have to. It honestly tastes like ash when I do. Not to mention, such methods do not always work the way they are meant to, particularly on those of… stronger will.” He gave McCree a pointed look.

That was a genuinely surprising excuse, and more than a little far-fetched. McCree raised his eyebrow incredulously, and Hanzo sighed.

“It does not sound very believable, does it? I’m afraid I’m rather atypical for my kind. I assure you, my younger brother and I are considered a collective disappointment by our clan.” Hanzo laughed quietly and shook his head, looking as though he was recalling a pleasant memory. Regardless, McCree was having none of it.

“Sorry, darlin’, but I ain’t trustin’ that story. Taking you at your word is what got me into this mess.” Jesse struggled slightly and sat up; if he was dying here, he wasn’t doing it lying down scared. And while Hanzo was still a heavy, warm presence in his lap, at least Jesse had gained some semblance of control over the situation.

Hanzo blinked, then sighed heavily again.

“You are right. After my falsehood, I cannot expect you to believe me at my word again. So if I cannot convince you with words…” Hanzo raised a hand, and McCree’s eyes clenched shut, expecting the worst. Instead of any pain, or a loss of self, he felt a familiar leather handle, and felt Hanzo’s clawed hands guiding his wrist up to the demon’s neck. Jesse opened his eyes and sucked in a breath when he realized that his hunting knife was in his hand, the blade pressed against the smooth, dark gray skin of Hanzo’s throat. “Then actions will have to suffice.”

“Hanzo, what…?!”

“I am giving you a choice, Jesse McCree. If you decide to slit my throat and have done with it, the wards will drop not long after. You will have a significant head start against any demons in the area, however, especially with the scent of my blood as a distraction. There are still quite a few hours left until sunrise, and we are quite far from town, so there is also that to consider.” Hanzo said matter-of-factly, as though he hadn’t just presented his most vulnerable area to a Hunter. McCree swallowed.

“And my second choice…?”

“Stay with me, tonight.” Hanzo almost cooed. His eyes were heated, his gaze feeling heavy on McCree and freezing him in place. “Let me feed from you, regain my strength. And I will keep the demons away, and yourself very, _very_ warm, for as long or as short a time as you like.” Hanzo’s smirk fell again into a more serious expression. “It is up to you.”

McCree raked his eyes over Hanzo, as though searching for some physical sign that he was lying. Then, suddenly he drew the tip of his blade to drag just above Hanzo’s collar bone, pulling a gasp from the demon, dark red droplets forming along the shallow cut the hunter had made. Hanzo began to tremble, his whole body vibrating and thrumming with nervous energy as the gunslinger set the tip of the knife over the demon’s heart, holding it still and steady for what felt like ages as he watched the demon’s blood well and begin to trickle slowly down his clavicle. Was Hanzo scared? _Excited_? McCree didn’t rightly know.

He also didn’t know what possessed him to surge forward and lave at the dripping blood, eliciting a shocked yelp from Hanzo as clawed fingers dug into his hair and knocked his hat off for good. Jesse began to mouth at the laceration, before moving to other parts of Hanzo’s chest to nip and bite, wondering in some bizarre part of his mind what the demon’s skin would look like when it bruised. Hanzo’s chest was heaving with exertion, small sounds of pleasure leaving him each time Jesse sucked or bit down.

“I take it,” Hanzo huffed, carding his fingers through McCree’s hair. “That you are leaning toward the second option?”

“I’m considerin’ it.” Jesse growled, stabbing his knife into the blackened wooden boards below him and grabbing at Hanzo’s bare waist with both hands. He tilted his head down to latch on, teeth and lips, to one of Hanzo’s nipples. He received a long, wanton moan for his ministrations, and hummed contentedly.

“Then this brings us back to my original question, conveniently enough.”

“Your question?” Jesse drew up slightly, or as much as he could given his position. Even so, he wasn’t prepared for Hanzo licking a long, agonizing stripe from the juncture of his neck and shoulder to mid-jaw, leaving a trail of blooming heat in his wake, before catching Jesse’s earlobe between his teeth. McCree shivered with his whole body. “ _Shit_ …”

“Do. You. Want. Me.” Hanzo whispered slowly, breath hot against McCree’s ear.

Now, Jesse didn’t hesitate a single heartbeat.

“Yes.”                                     

With a single word, Jesse felt like something in the air, something between _them_ , had locked in place, but before he could take stock of the feeling Hanzo’s mouth was pressed against his, driving away any other thoughts but how badly he needed the demon’s touch.

What followed was a flurry of fabric being pushed, pulled, or torn out of the way, bruising, nipping kisses that practically caused Jesse’s core to start melting, frantic rutting against one another chasing any friction to be had, and a feverish race to see which man could mark the other up faster. Currently, Hanzo was winning. Every time he sank his sharp, sharp fangs into Jesse’s flesh, the gunslinger nearly screamed with the sting and the tear of it. It hurt, god did it _HURT_ , but it all felt so good that all Jesse could do was claw at Hanzo’s shoulders and recite his name like a prayer for more.

(The irony wasn’t lost on him.)

Things came into focus again when Hanzo was completely naked in McCree’s lap, grinning mischievously as he hovered just shy of touching McCree at all. When Jesse, practically salivating at the sight of Hanzo’s erect manhood, attempted to touch, his wrists were caught in a clawed grip. Instead, Hanzo took the gunslinger’s right hand and slid the middle finger into his mouth, sucking intently, his gaze never leaving Jesse’s.

“H-Hanzo, darlin’, you’ve gotta…” McCree nearly choked as Hanzo took a second and third finger and began lavishing them with attention from his mouth and tongue. “G-Gotta elaborate on what you want me to do here, I’m not…” Hanzo released Jesse’s fingers with an obscene, wet pop, his lips swollen. Jesse had the inexplicable urge to bite them.

“I want your hands.” Hanzo purred, slowly dragging Jesse’s hand down and down his torso. Jesse smirked, canting his hips slightly so that his still-clothed cock created a delicious friction against Hanzo’s. The demon threw his head back with a whine, and Jesse took the opportunity to bite at his neck again.

“I think I can manage that.” The gunslinger crooned, wrapping his other arm around Hanzo’s waist and pulling him flush. The saliva-coated fingers of his right hand inched toward Hanzo’s entrance. “But, uh, don’t you need more’n just…?” Hanzo merely smiled with hooded eyes and guided Jesse’s hand the rest of the way down. McCree couldn’t hold back the groan that left him when he felt hot, wet slick against his fingers as he circled Hanzo’s entrance.

“Advantages of my species, gunslinger.” Hanzo hummed, before surging forward to kiss McCree, licking deep into his mouth and tangling his clawed fingers in his unruly brown hair. Jesse, for his part, merely rolled his hips forward and slipped his fingers into Hanzo’s slick, warm entrance. Hanzo groaned into their kiss, hips stuttering as he broke it to nose at McCree’s neck and inhale deeply. “I can… almost taste you already Jesse… it’s soooo…” Hanzo moaned, seeming to lose his train of thought as McCree crooked his fingers inside of him, causing a gush of slick to coat the hunter’s hand.

“God damn…” Jesse rasped, mesmerized by every reaction he could draw from the man in his lap. It was like all his senses were in overdrive, and he could see, hear, and smell everything far too intensely to be normal. He could barely believe that what was happening was real. He watched numbly as Hanzo reached up and untied the crimson ribbon that had been keeping the majority of his hair tied back, and let his hair fall over his shoulders and strands of inky, glossy black. Jesse couldn’t help but run his free hand through it.

Abruptly, Hanzo grabbed both his wrists with a snarl, pulling Jesse’s fingers from his entrance, knocking him with a thud to the floor, and holding his arms up over his head. Jesse let a whimper escape him as his back hit the floor, whether from fear or excitement or disappointment he had no clue.

“Enough. I need to taste you, _now_.” Hanzo growled, letting go of McCree’s wrists and slithering down his chest and stomach, placing hasty bites and nips everywhere as he went, before suddenly mouthing at Jesse’s dick through his trousers.

“Sweet mother o’…!” McCree attempted to buck, to sit up, to do _something_ , but realized three things in quick succession.

One: Hanzo was very, _very_ strong. A _lot_ stronger than him. And he was pinning McCree’s struggling thighs with his hands like it was nothing.

Two: He wasn’t sure he liked that smirk on Hanzo’s face, even as he continued his ministrations below the belt. He felt suspiciously like he’d been duped in some way. Again. God damn it all, Reyes was going to murder him when he got back.

Three: He couldn’t move his arms from their position above his head. At all. When he twisted his neck to look at what was holding him in place, he saw a crimson ribbon knotted neatly against his wrists, the threads shimmering and buzzing with magic. McCree gulped, giving Hanzo a sheepish smile.

“Uh… H-Hanzo, sugar, any particular reason you’ve got me all hog-tied…?” McCree asked, nervous laughter bubbling out of him against his will. He heard a rumble from deep in Hanzo’s chest and realized with some alarm that it sounded like a cat purring. And boy did he feel like a goddamn canary about to be swallowed.

“You look so good like this. So _right_ like this.” Hanzo said, stroking at the softness of McCree’s stomach with his hands, like he was petting him. Jesse dimly thought it felt like heaven. “My pretty hunter, at my mercy…” Hanzo suddenly dragged his claws against McCree’s stomach, drawing a guttural moan from the gunslinger’s mouth as he thrashed.

“H-Hanzo, please, I don’t…!” he babbled deliriously as Hanzo lapped at the raised lines on his stomach, soothing them. McCree barely noticed that his trousers were being opened until his cock hit cool air. He hissed at the sensation, even as Hanzo’s warm, warm hand closed around the base.

“Ssssshhh….” The demon shushed him, moving his hand in slow, small, hypnotizing movements up and down and up and down and up and… “Jesse…”

“Huh…?” McCree’s eyes snapped to Hanzo’s, glowing white and sharp, pinning him in place like they had been from the beginning, even as he felt a comfortable, warm miasma settling in his bones.

“I will take care of you.” Hanzo crooned. Then suddenly, the hunter’s manhood was trapped in an impossibly hot tunnel of heat and suction and ecstasy.

Jesse McCree actually screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha. Y'all thought I was gonna write Hanzo submissive, didn't you. HA.
> 
> Also, just so everyone knows, McCree is actually around 23 here. Hanzo is also around that age. Probably. In demon years. Whatever those may be.
> 
> And yes, I AM taking my sweet time getting to the main event, aren't I? This was only supposed to be two chapters. Haha... o-oops... ;;;;;

**Author's Note:**

> I might add tags later depending on how steamy this gets. It has been a very long time since I have attempted anything of this rating. Please, forgive an old woman (in her early twenties, the drama queen) her vices.


End file.
